Ah, mornings, nothing like them. Some people are not morning persons and as such they should not be allowed to arise until well after the Sun's shadow has made its descent to the right of the XII on the sundial. Not me. I love mornings! I greet each one like a new beginning. I marvel at any and all new possibilities that may befall me on each and every given daybreak. I welcome what the morning's dawn has to offer.

Standing alone in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving razor in one hand, the other curled tightly around the edge of the marble sink, propping myself up as I lean forwards into the mirror, glancing into the reflected image behind me of the bathroom window which just so happens to face east, catching the bright, golden rays of sunlight streaming through the partially-opened curtains, I am alive, utterly alive.

And alone. I feel utterly alone in the universe when basking in the sun's rays. One man, alone against nature. One man standing in only his white cotton briefs sharing the glory of another day. So peaceful, so serene, so awe-inspiring.

Nothing, I mean nothing in this perfect world could dispel this feeling I have right now. Nothing at all...........

"JESSICA! I told you a hundred times, NO eating your cereal off of the floor!"

My reverie was shattered by my wife's Amazonian screaming at the top of her lungs at our daughter. My wife, needless to say, is NOT a morning person.

I waited for another outburst, but none was forthcoming. I dipped the razor into the tepid soapy water in the sink and brought it up to my face. A lone ray of sunlight fell directly over my right arm as I moved the razor gently up the side of my neck. Dust motes floated almost imperceptibly in the air, swirling amidst a maelstrom of other minutae caught and suspended momentarily in the great sun's eyes. I paused briefly in order to reflect on not only the warmth of the sun's rays but also its calming qualities. I was slowly re-attaining my place in the universe. A place of calm, a place of platitude. Where nothing makes waves.

Where the status quo is stasis.

"DAMMIT, JESSICA, get your hands out of the cat's behind!"

Once anew my aura was broken.

"Come here, Jessica, and let me wash your hands! NOW!!!"

I sighed heavily, and continued shaving. I realize that Jessica, our only daughter, was a handful at her age but she was naturally inquisitive and prone to investigating and probing the objects around her. If that meant she wanted to check out that part underneath the cat's tail then so be it. As long as the cat doesn't mind, it doesn't bother me.

Ok, I know what you're thinking. What kind of parent am I? Not caring what my 18-month old daughter gets her hands into? I mean, like, c'mon, there are electrical outlets around. There are electric appliances, fans, door hinges and drawers that could pinch little nosy fingers.

Hey, give me a break. I'm not totally ignorant. I keep a watch on all that type of stuff. As I'm sure most parents do. But I'm not the type of parent who will blow a seal or a gasket if little Johnny or little Susie decides to suddenly wonder what that tiny hole is whenever the family cat lifts up her tail.

Or any inquisitive action my daughter has. As long as it is in within the realms of safety, I let her pretty much investigate what she wants to and not fly off the handle like my wife does. I mean it is how the child learns, is it not?

"JESSICA! I mean it! Stop drinking the water out of the cat's dish! NOW!!!"

I shook my head and laughed. Jess. My little nosy elf. That's what I called her, my little elf. Blonde hair, a round face, beautiful inquisitive blue eyes, takes after her mother. Both are gorgeous females. Me? I'm just a normal man, average height, so-so looks. But I did manage to create a lovely child. Oh, yeah, and my wife helped.

I had just finished rinsing the razor and was getting ready to do the other side of my neck when I heard,

"MARK! MARK? Can you -- Jessica, put that down this instant! Do you hear me? MARK! MARK? Jessica, no, not that--no, no! MARK!!!!"

I was deciding if I should answer or not when I next heard,

"Jessica, here -- take this and go to your father! Let him look after you and see if he can get anything done with you always underfoot and getting into things! Mark, can you watch Jess for me? I've gotta run to the store for some laundry detergent. Jessica's spilled the entire gallon of milk over all my just-washed-and-dried clothes here in the kitchen in the laundry basket! I'm sending her to you, okay?"

She didn't wait for my answer. To answer in any fashion was useless, be the answer yes or no.

With that, I heard the front door slam and my wife was on her way to the store. And if I know her, and I do, she'd take this opportunity for some time to herself. Like I said, she is NOT a morning person.

I resumed shaving, wondering just what it was that my wife had consoled Jess with and then sent her on her way to see me. It wasn't long before my daughter toddled her way into the doorway and stood there, looking as innocent as a lamb. In her hands she held one of those frozen popsicle treats, Kool Pops, I think they are called. Jess loved them, and we always kept a supply on hand in the freezer. I briefly wondered what had happened to Jess' proper breakfast, but then my wife's admonition to our daughter not to eat her cereal off of the floor hit me, and I visualized the spilling of her cereal bowl and the gallon of milk.

Kool Pop -- a frozen breakfast treat. Part of this nutritional breakfast.

I looked at Jess, smiled widely at her, and said,

"Hey, little elf, whatchoo doing?"

"Noffing," she said between licks of her Popsicle.

At 18 months old, Jess had a pretty big vocabulary, even if most of it was unintelligible to my wife. But I was able to catch most of what she said.

"Whatcha eatin' there, Jess?" I asked her.

" 'ool Pop," she answered, her tiny tongue flicking out to lick the exposed tip of the red Popsicle.

She held onto the plastic-covered holder in her tiny chubby hands, and when she would bite off the very topmost exposed piece, she would have a little trouble getting the hang of pushing up the Popsicle from below.

I turned and faced the mirror again and continued shaving. Jess stood dutifully in the doorway, captivated by her frozen treat.

I kept a watch on her out of the corner of my eye as I shaved the rest of my face. Dipping the razor back into the sink, I rinsed it off one final time and pulled the stopper to drain the water out. While I waited for the water to disappear, I turned to face my daughter again.

She was struggling with the next piece of Popsicle, her chubby hands trying desperately to push up the object from below.

"Come here, Jess. Daddy'll get it for you, honey," I said soothingly.

Jess toddled over to the bathroom sink where I stood in my white cotton underpants. Usually, I was either in my pajamas or had a robe on when around Jess. Not out of modesty or anything relating to impropriety but more out of a habit, I guess. This was the first time I can remember that I was this much undressed alone with my daughter. Which meant absolutely nothing to me and so what happened next took me a little by surprise.

Ok, a LOT by surprise.

While I was pushing up Jess' Kool Pop for her to enjoy more of, I suddenly felt something touch the front of my undershorts. Then that "something" squeezed me -- down there -- and then quickly squeezed again.

I immediately looked down and saw my 18-month old daughter's hand fondling my penis through my undershorts.

I didn't want to react in such a way that would give the impression to Jess that what she was doing was a bad thing, but I have to admit I did jump a shade, as it did startle me.

Jess didn't seem to notice, however, and she let go of my member and stood there, waist high, looking straight ahead at my crotch.

"Daddy, what you haf in dere?" she asked me.

Ooh boy, I thought to myself. Now what do I do? What do I say? How do I handle this one?  Where was my wife when I actually needed her assistance?

"Well, Jess, its, um, its my -- um, that's where Daddy goes to the bathroom from, honey," hoping that would satisfy her.

Jess was still in diapers, but my wife and I had started trying to potty train her. Everyone said that she was way too young to start but she seemed like an intelligent child to us so we started trying with her last month. She seemed to understand the basic function of going to the bathroom, and where it came from, so I figured that my little explanation would satisfy her.

It didn't.

"Dat don look like me," she offered up, pointing now with her chubby index finger right at my limp tool molded nicely by my somewhat-tight underwear.

"No, Jess, now remember how mommy and me told you that boys and girls are different? How girls have a nest and boys have a worm?"

My wife and I thought this the best description to give to Jess as Jess has seen my wife's naked body lots of times when they took baths together. While not having ever actually seen a man's or a boy's penis, Jess could relate to a birds nest, as my wife does not shave her pubic area and it looks somewhat like a nest.

"Uh huh," my daughter said, nodding her head.

"Well, that's just daddy's worm. That's all," I said, hoping that was the end of it.

It wasn't.

Her chubby hand reached out once again and touched my penis. She poked it and she prodded it. She traced her fingers along the outline of it. I let her go at her own pace because I truly believed that this was an education for her. Why not start now with the questions? Why not now to begin with educating children on their own and other's bodies? Might lead to a better understanding and less problems later on in their pubescent lives.

I tried to keep it clinical as my sweet little daughter investigated my penis through my undershorts. This wasn't my wife touching me there; it was my 18-month old daughter... my daughter, not my lover.

I looked down at the top of her blonde head, her curly tresses lit up by the ever-increasing sunlight that grew more and more as the sun slowly made its way across the eastern sky.

She now held the Kool Pop in her right hand, and was fondling me with her left. She was still in her nightclothes -- a one-piece layette and pink socks. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that her Kool Pop was melting and the red watered-down juice ran down her right hand, leaving trails of liquid like veins.

The more my daughter touched and fondled my penis, the harder I tried to see it as just an innocent learning experience. The more insistent her hand was in trying to grasp my limp penis inside my underwear the more insistent I was that I was not reacting to the stimulation. But I couldn't hold out much longer.  The inevitable happened -- I started becoming erect.

When my penis first jumped in that pre-erectile way that dicks sometimes do, Jess immediately left go of my crotch. She pulled her hand back as if it had been burned by a hot pot and stared at my crotch in awe and wonder as my penis began to fill with blood. The head began to swell, and it lifted slightly off of my ball sack. As the stalk grew, the  head lifted up higher, pushing out the material of my white cotton underpants.

Ooh boy, now what happens? How do I explain this to her?

"Daddy, what's dat?" Jess asked, pointing to my ever-growing member.

"Um, Jess, honey, daddy's um, worm is um, getting big! It does that sometimes and it gets to be a really big worm. It's all right, honey, there's nothing to be afraid of."

That couldn't be said about the way I felt, however.

With my dick now at half mast, and threatening to make a tent of my underpants, Jess reached out her left hand again towards my half-erection. She brushed her hand against the tip of my dick, and then closed her whole hand over the fat head.

"Feels funny, daddy," she giggled.

She felt along the entire shaft, squeezing as she went along. With each touch of her chubby little hand came new sensations. This was ludicrous! I wasn't a pedophile! I wasn't a molester! I didn't get off on little kids! What was happening here???

Regardless of all that, my dick was growing harder and harder, and fatter and longer with each of my toddler daughter's caresses. I couldn't control it, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't let go of the immense pleasurable feeling my daughter was giving me.

"Me wanna see daddy's worm," Jess suddenly said, and before I knew it she was pulling down my underpants, letting my erection plop free.

My undershorts fell to my ankles. My dick bobbed upwards, arcing and then settling back down and outright at a 90 degree acute angle.

Angled right into the face of my blonde-haired sweet daughter.

Jess was open-eyed at what she had uncovered. She was rapt with wonder. She had found a new toy. The Kool Pop in her right hand had all but been forgotten, though she still kept a grip on it. It was slowly melting, but the part that was inside the plastic covering was still whole.

Jess' left hand came up and tried to encircle my erection. Of course her tiny hand couldn't encompass the girth. But she did try. She managed to grab a hold of the part right below the head and she slid her hand all the way down to the bottom, seeing how the entire thing felt, I guess.

I know how her hand felt to me -- incredibly soft!

A shudder coursed through my body and my dick quivered at her sensitive, soft touch. She was gently exloring me. Questioningly. Inquisitively. Demandingly.

"Oh, um, Jess, um, I don't think -- I don't think you should --" I started to say, but then she took her hand and placed it over top of my dick's head and squeezed me there.

"Oh sweet Jeesuz," I moaned, and my daughter heard that and stopped and said,

"Did I hurt you, daddy?"

"Oh, no, my little elf. Not at all, Jess. You just -- um, you just made daddy, um, feel really good, honey. You know, like when I tickle you, how it makes you feel all funny in your tummy?"

"Uh huh," she said, once more squeezing my dick's bald domed head.

Again I felt the immense pleasure of her touch and she seemed to equate what she was doing to my sounds of pleasure and the fact that she was making me happy. Smart little toddler.

Ooh boy, what was I doing here? What was going on? I had to put an end to it. NOW!

But I didn't want to.

I wasn't sure if I was feeling such an unequaled pleasure because it was being elicited from such a young girl, or if it was the taboo of the incest stigma that fueled my desire, that fueled my lust. I only know that what I said next turned the next page of my life into a new chapter.

"Jess, honey, why don't you pretend that daddy's worm is like your Kool Pop? Would you like to try that, honey?"

Oh God, I was lost.

At the mention of her Kool Pop, Jess remembered what was in her right hand and brought it to her mouth. She licked the red juice that ran down her hand, her small pink tongue swiping it as she lapped at it, like the family cat licks the tuna from my fingertips.

My dick swelled at the sight, and it throbbed incessantly. I knew what it wanted. I knew what I wanted.

Suddenly, my daughter did something that helped me in my quest for what I wanted her to do.

She pressed the Kool Pop against my dick's head, and ran the sticky juice all around it.  It felt cold at first, but then I realized what she was doing. Or did she even know what she was doing? Or was it just my skewed perception of this entire surreal experience?

When the head of my dick was coated with the melted Kool Pop residue, Jess leaned forwards and put her mouth right near it. I could feel her breath on the very tip, and my slit on the tip spasmed open and closed. Red sugary juice dripped from the head, and Jess' tiny pink tongue snaked out from between her lips and lapped at it.

I had attained a state of Nirvana.

My toddler daughter was now licking all over my dickhead, lapping up the melting juice from the Kool Pop. Her little tongue was innocently sending waves of pure unbridled pleasure to my brain and back down in a millisecond to the nerve endings in my dick. All I could do was look down at my beautiful little daughter as she naively licked and slurped on my dick's head.

"Jess, honey, my little elf, why don't you suck on it some, you known, like you do on your Kool Pop?" I almost implored her.

She raised up her Kool Pop in her right hand and dabbed some more of the juice onto my dick. She tilted the popsicle, letting the accumulated juice pour out onto my head. Most of it splashed onto the bathroom carpeting but I either didn't see it or I didn't care.

I watched with a heretofore unknown passion as my baby daughter opened her little mouth and tried to take the head of my dick inside. Of course she wasn't able to, so she started sucking on the very tip of it instead. Her tongue swiped over every fiber and cell on there, licking onto the sides sometimes to catch the juice that spilled on those places.

The sensation was incredible. Unnamable. Unstoppable.

I could feel my impending explosion. It started as a low rumbling deep in my balls. Then it ascended to my stomach, where it radiated outwards to my legs and feet. I tingled everywhere. All over.

"Oh, Jess, honey, baby, suck daddy's worm! Suck me, honey! Lick it, yeah, like that! Oh Jess you make daddy feel sooo good, honey!" I moaned aloud.

Around and around my daughter licked my dick's head. Occasionally she fitted her lips over the outer edges of my dick, but she couldn't get much more than that inside her little toddler mouth. But she was determined to get all of the Kool Pop juice licked up.

My orgasm was nearing the point of no return. I had to prepare my daughter for the inevitable release. But how? I didn't want to scare her by telling her that her daddy was going to be shooting out this blast of white hot cream. Wait a minute......milk! She loves milk.

"Ooh, Jess, that feels sooo good. Lick all the juice up, honey. That's it. All over, like that, yeah. Mmmmm, goood. Oh yeah, Jess, lick daddy's Kool Pop! Lick daddy's Kool Pop!"

"Daddy's 'ool Pop," my daughter imitated me.

"Daddy's 'ool Pop good!" she added, slurping on my dickhead some more.

"Honey, Jess, baby, um, daddy's going to be giving you some milk soon. It's gonna come out of his worm. Right there on the tip, on the end, honey. Don't be scared. It's good milk, and you can drink it all down. Can you do that for daddy, Jess, can you? Drink all of daddy's milk?

From his Kool Pop?"

"Uh huh," my daughter said, nodding her head while licking along the side of my dick.

"Okay, honey, here comes the milk, get ready, okay? Daddy's gonna make the milk come out for you into your mouth, 'k?"

" 'k, daddy!" she said, opening her mouth and placing it right at the head of my dick.

I placed my hand on my shaft and began pumping back and forth on it. I knew it wouldn't take long for me to cum!

Looking down at my 18-month old daughter in her pajamas and her golden blonde hair and her cute little pink socks with her tiny mouth opened wide and waiting for her daddy's milk just made me lose it!

I felt the first burst of semen go forth from the tip of my dick as I saw the jet of cum land squarely in the mouth of my toddler daughter. She immediately swallowed the cream, and quickly waited for the next stream. I erupted into her mouth five or six times before the heft of the shots lessened, and each time Jess swallowed all of daddy's milk down.

When I was done cumming, my dick flagged, and hung limply atop my ball sack, although not yet back to its original limp state.

"Oh, Jess, baby, you were such a good little elf! Daddy is so proud of you, honey!" I beamed at my daughter.

"Daddy make me milk and I drink it all," Jess said excitedly. "Daddy's milk real good, daddy!" she added.

Then, as if suddenly remembering her right hand again, Jess raised the Kool Pop to her mouth and tilted it and let the remaining melted popsicle juice run down into her mouth.

" 'ool Pop all gone," she said, showing me the empty plastic covering.

She then pointed to my half-ebbed dick and said,

" 'ool Pop! My daddy's a 'ool Pop!"

I smiled at my bright little sunshine, and thought, yes, I am a Kool Pop.

I looked down at the bathroom floor and saw that the rug was a mess, covered in red sticky popsicle juice. I noticed also that Jess was covered in red sticky popsicle juice, as well as some of my cum that had missed her mouth and landed instead on her layette.

Uh oh, time for a bath.

Both of us had to get cleaned up. My dick was all sticky from both the popsicle juice and my cum. I think Jess and I should take a bath together. Save time, don't you think?